


There's No Going Back (For You I'll Risk It All)

by FukaiFox



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Abusive Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust Needs a Hug (Hazbin Hotel), Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Rape/Non-con, Protective Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:20:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27159928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FukaiFox/pseuds/FukaiFox
Summary: Alastor tilts his head, red aura glowing around him.“I ask you to think a little harder about this, my dear. If you make a deal with me, you’ll belong to me just as Niffty and Husker do. That means when I need you, you will get no warning. I will simply bring you to me and you do as I tell you. My deals are not unfair, but they are everlasting. I will own your soul for the rest of your afterlife, do you understand that? There will be no undoing this if you regret it once the deed is done.”--inspired by the cover/mash-up of Katy Perry's Dark Horse and ET by Jonathan Young and Grace Bray
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 163





	There's No Going Back (For You I'll Risk It All)

**Author's Note:**

> i heard this cover/mash-up and this concept haunted me all day so I got to work as soon as I got home it is now 3am and i must sleep now 
> 
> here i recommend you listen to it so you get the real feel
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I-Ty7qliuY8

Months of seeing the infamous Angel Dust coming back to the hotel beaten, bruised, and covered in more bodily fluids than just blood, and Alastor is no longer surprised to see him crying at the bar-counter in the lobby long past hours. He had probably just collapsed on the barstool immediately after coming home from whatever horrid things Valentino had done to him and hadn’t made it to his room to cry in peace.  
Alastor heard him often, just scream-crying, sobbing and fighting every urge to trash his room out of pre-realized guilt that Niffty would undoubtedly clean it up while he was out, or the knowledge that he’d have to do it himself. There really was nothing Alastor could do about it, but that didn’t stop him from carefully caressing the head of a small pink and white poppet he kept in a locked drawer of his desk, one of many effigies, when Angel was having one of his many breakdowns or purging fits. It didn’t stop him from trying to cheer the spider demon up with a small plate of freshly-made pralines filled with pecan nuts left in front of his door with a small cover of aluminum foil.

As Alastor approaches the bar, ready to offer Angel help back to his room, the spider lifts his head at the sound of his shoes clicking on the wood floor. He sniffs and wipes his eyes, trying to put on a brave face but it quickly crumbles and he coughs on a sob that breaks through his chest. Alastor tilts his head.  
“You seem rather down, my friend.” He says as he slides onto the stool beside the other demon.  
Angel at least manages a short laugh from that.  
“Yeah, I— I’ve probably looked better. Was hopin’ to get back in time for a nightcap but…nah. Shame, too. I— I got some Good Boy Points saved up to get some weed and a bit o’ liqa’ from Huska’.”  
“Oh? Well, good thing he’s sound asleep then.” Alastor says as he manifests a bottle of his own whiskey and two glasses with a wave of his hand. “I don’t accept Good Boy Points, however, so consider this a gift.”  
Whiskey filling both glasses and one sliding its way to Angel, he just sniffs and takes it.  
“…thanks, Alastor.” He says as he raises it and clinks glasses, “Cheers,” with the other demon before taking a long, savoring sip. He pulls the glass away slowly and licks his lips. Alastor has good taste, Angel will give him that.  
Alastor hums and leans on his hand.  
“Actually, there is _one thing_ I’d like in exchange…”  
Angel sighs.  
“I’m off the clock, honey.”  
The deer practically snorts as he wrinkles his nose distastefully and waves his hand.  
“Heavens, no. I would just like for you to tell me what’s gotten you into this state. Spare no details, my dear, I’m a sucker for them.”

Not what Angel is expecting, and he’d really rather not, but…well, this is really good whiskey, and those sweet pecan cookie things Alastor leaves for him sometimes are damn tasty too. He guesses it’s the least he can do. He sighs.  
“…lost all my money tonight I made for Val. Group o’ guys jumped me, gang-raped me, and stole everything I had… Told Val, he hit me even harder, beat me worse. Told me I was an idiot for letting that happen. Took his pound of flesh too as punishment…” Angel says, staring unblinking into the glass of amber liquid in his hand, his voice distant. “I just… I dunno, babe. It was a lot for one night.”  
Alastor’s static grows louder and his grin tightens. He thinks he might chip a tooth.  
“… _Valentino did what?”_  
Angel shrugs.  
“…’s pretty normal for him to do that. He owns me, suga’, can’t really do nothin’ about it.” He sighs and takes another long sip from his glass. “Sometimes though, I… I wish I could…”  
“….could what, my dear?” Alastor asks, ears twitching as Angel chuckles under his breath.  
“I imagine bein’ free sometimes. Just…bein’ me, doin’ what I want without havin’ to worry ‘bout it gettin’ back ta’ Daddy. Without gettin’ punished for it.”

This certainly isn’t the potential entertainment Alastor had wanted nor expected, but he’s just as interested.  
“Tell me, Angel,” he says after a few moments of silence, “what would you do first? If you were free of him?”  
Angel huffs a short laugh.  
“I’d eat whatever I want. I wouldn’t have to worry ‘bout him callin’ me fat anymore, tellin’ me I was gettin’ chubby and ugly anytime he caught me with a donut or a bag o’ chips.” He says dreamily. “Yeah… I think I’d just eat somethin’.”  
But then that little hint of a smile drops before he shudders and wipes his eyes, smearing his make-up even more, black tracks on his fluffy cheeks and wrist.  
“But— But it’s just a fuckin’ dream. Val’s neva’ gonna lemme go, Al… He’d kill me ‘fore he ended our contract.”  
Alastor hums in thought.  
“I see… So, you entered into a contract with that little flea.”  
Angel nods and swallows the last mouthful of whiskey, and Alastor refills his glass without question. Angel obviously needs it.  
“Those are some…unfortunate circumstances, my friend. I truly wish I could help. I find people like Valentino, people who use others that way, to be truly despicable and deserving of only the worst this eternal inferno has to offer, and yet that roach has gone and made an Overlord of himself.”

Angel hugs himself with his lower set of arms and shrugs.  
“It is what it is, Smiles… Maybe I’ll be lucky one o’ these years and slip outta the penthouse durin’ an extermination. I’d be free, at least, if one of those Heavenly Pricks stuck me with somethin’ sharp an’ pointy. I’d get away from Val fa’ good.”  
Alastor sighs and sips his own whiskey.  
“I’m sure you’ll think of something a little less suicidal, Angel.”  
“…maybe. If I do, I’ll let ya know.”

  
— — —

  
A few nights later, Alastor’s ear twitches as there’s a hesitant knock on his door. Now, who could that be at this hour? Niffty’s long since gone to bed, and Charlie knows better than to come knocking at his door. He sets down his book and whiskey tumbler as he stands from his chair and walks to the door, opening it slowly.

It’s Angel, looking…about the same as he had the other night. Showered and clean, but no less worse for wear. 

“Angel,” Alastor greets. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit?”  
“I been thinkin’.” He says. “Told you I’d tell ya. …can I come in?”  
Angel? Come into Alastor’s room on an unannounced visit? Why, the absolute nerve of this man. 

Alastor loves it.

So he nods and steps aside, inviting the other demon into his quarters with his ever-present grin.  
“Of course, my dear. Come in. Can I offer you something to drink? I wasn’t expecting company, so I’m afraid I’ve little to offer in the way of snacks—,”  
“I wanna make a deal with you, Alastor.”

Alastor’s static pops as the door locks closed.

“I… Pardon?”  
Angel turns and stares him down.  
“You heard me. I want a deal with you, a contract.”  
Alastor chuckles.  
“Well, that’s quite the plan. And…what would this deal entail?” Alastor asks as he walks Angel further into his room. It’s much nicer than the other rooms of the hotel, and much bigger. Angel has the thought that the other side of Alastor’s door actually is some kind of portal back to his radio tower.  
“I want out of my contract with Val. I want you as back-up for when I off the fucker. I’m fucking sick of him doin’ this shit ta’ me! I ain’t done nothin’ tonight, and he still beat me, raped me, took all my money, and kicked my ass to the curb right outside the hotel when he was done with me! You and I both know Cha-Cha’s little redemption hotel is a fuckin’ crock, but she at least got me thinkin’ for myself and what I want. And what I want is Val to pay for what he’s doin’ to me. I been treated like shit too much in life to not deserve my own peace of mind in death, and Val’s had me for seventy fucking years, I think I’ve paid my debt back to him several times over.”  
Alastor chuckles.  
“And what do I get out of this?”  
“Whatever you want. When Val’s dead, you could take his territory. Give you a reason to rip out Vox’s cables. Know you ain’t got the taste for the sex industry here, but you ain’t gotta do that. I’ll run the fucking studios, treat the others right. I’ll do whatever you want me to, you just gotta say the word, honey, and it’s done.”  
“Well, you’ve certainly put a bit of thought into this.”  
“Damn right.”  
Alastor tilts his head, red aura glowing around him.  
“I ask you to think a little harder about this, my dear. If you make a deal with me, you’ll belong to me just as Niffty and Husker do. That means when I need you, you will get no warning. I will simply bring you to me and you do as I tell you. My deals are not unfair, but they are everlasting. I will own your soul for the rest of your afterlife, do you understand that? There will be no undoing this if you regret it once the deed is done.”

Angel sets his face and nods once.  
“You ain’t gonna beat me, rape me, or keep me from eating or doin’ what I want, yeah? I can do as I please and all I gotta do is come when ya call and do whateva’ you say, but aside from that, I’m free as a demon can be, right?”  
Alastor chuckles.  
“I see you’ve spoken with Husker and Niffty about their deals with me. You’re correct, my dear. I won’t harm you or keep you from doing what you like, and even offer a certain degree of personal protection. Keep hooking, if you like, be your own boss. But when I call you, you will come to me. I will bring you to me just as I did Husker and Niffty. You will do whatever I tell you to, no arguments, and you are only free from your task when I say so. You will not turn on me, and you will make no other deals.” He says, symbols starting to float around him.

 _“I knew you were going to come to me, and here you are…”_ Alastor sings, walking a circle around the spider in front of him. _“But you better choose carefully, ‘cause I’m capable of anything. Anything and everything.”_  
Alastor watches as Angel’s eyes follow him and he grins.  
 _“So, you want to play with magic? Boy, you should know what you’re falling for.”_ He continues, glowing vèvè circling the both of them. _“Darling, do you dare to do this?”_  
Alastor stalks back around to Angel’s front and offers his hand, the light around them turning from pinkish-red to a bright green, Alastor’s eyes glowing brightly as he clouds Angel’s eyes with static visions of what he’s asking for, of Valentino dead by the spider’s own hand. _“Are you ready for a perfect storm? ‘Cause once you're mine…”_ The vision changes to Valentino’s green chains around Angel’s neck and wrists cracking and falling to pieces, only to be replaced by red ones belonging to Alastor. _“There’s no going back.”_

The vision fades and Angel blinks, shaking it from his head as he takes a deep breath and closes in on himself and turns his back.  
 _“They say be afraid… You’re not like the others,”_ he sings, recalling Vaggie and Charlie’s initial reactions to the arrival of the crimson Overlord, Husker’s words of warning against getting involved with Alastor in any way, of Alastor recounting tales of demons running at the very sight of him. _“You’re from a whole other world,”_ Angel gestures to the 1920’s decor of the room, _“a different dimension.”_  
He stands straight and clenches all four of his fists.  
 _“But you opened my eyes, so I’m ready to go,”_ he turns back to face Alastor and clasps their hands tight, _“lead me into the light.”_

The room erupts in a show of green lightning and smoke, red chains encircling Alastor’s and Angel’s wrists in a binding demonic contract as the force blows their hair and clothes, but neither of them stumbles or even move at all. Angel doesn’t feel any different, but he supposes he will only belong to Alastor when Valentino is dead. The deer demon grins and drops their hands.

“Very well, my dear. I will help you plan with Valentino’s extermination, and I will support you when the time comes. Once that is done…” he says, the grin on his face growing ever wider, “you’ll belong to me.”  
He hums and adjusts his hair and clothes with a few little pats.  
“Now, if that was all?” He asks as he walks to his door and puts a hand on the handle.  
Angel nods and walks towards the door, smiling when Alastor opens it for him.  
“Thanks, Al. You’re an afterlife saver, really.” He says, and Alastor just chuckles.  
“Don’t thank me yet, my dear. That miserable little roach is still breathing. Thank me when he’s dead for good. Now, off to bed with you.”  
As Angel leaves and Alastor closes the door behind him, he drops his ears and glares at his shadow, silently laughing on the wall.

“Angel was going to try and kill him whether I helped or not, at least like this I… I can keep him safe in the aftermath.” He says as he walks back to his desk and resumes his seat. He tries to return to his book, to his drink, but finds his thoughts wandering.   
Does…Angel know what he’s just done? Surely, he had to know how dangerous it all was. Killing Valentino for one, and for another, entering into a short-sighted contract with Alastor just to ensure it. He sighs and closes his book, then tosses the rest of his whiskey in one large mouthful, wiping his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. Alastor was genuine with his contracts, literally having the hearts and souls of his charges so he can sense everything about them. If they are in danger, he’ll know. If they’re angry, sad, happy, he will feel it. It’s how he protects his investments. He sighs and summons a key from his shadows that open a locked cabinet in his desk, removing the small effigy of Angel Dust, complete with extra arms, one pink and one black bead for his principal pair of eyes, pink paint for his six secondaries underneath, and a small tuft of white fur fastened around the torso with pink string.   
On impulse, he tunes the radio on his desk to the frequency of the one in Angel Dust’s room, a gift he’d given the spider a few weeks ago to talk to him through if he ever felt the need. He hears Angel’s voice as he walks around his room.

In Angel’s room, the spider is pacing, comprehending what he’s just done, how he feels versus how he knows he should feel. When he’d made his deal with Valentino all those years ago, he’d felt the effects immediately. It was a weight on his chest he couldn’t ignore, one that dragged him down and made him physically ill if he was away from the moth for too long, but with this…he felt light and free for the first time in over seventy years. That weight was gone, replaced by pure relief on behalf of Alastor’s protection and the binding deal they’d made.  
 _“You’re so hypnotizing. Could you be the devil, could you be an angel? Your touch is magnetizing — feels like I’m floating, leaves my body glowing…”_ he sings as he picks up a red coat, tattered at the ends, and holding it close. Alastor had used it as a makeshift blanket for the spider several nights ago when he’d fallen asleep on the couch in the lobby and he’d yet to return it. He wanted Niffty to clean it, but that meant he’d have to explain why he had it to the overly curious little bug, and he didn’t know how to do it himself.   
He flops down in the little seat in front of his vanity and looks in the mirror, not noticing the radio next to it has fizzled to life with a low hum of static.  
 _“This is transcendental, on another level. Boy, you’re my lucky star…”_ He slowly slides his arms through the sleeves and hugs himself with his lower pair, imagining it’s the Radio Demon himself like he’d dreamed of. “ _I wanna walk on ya’ wavelength and be there when you vibrate,”_ He giggles quietly as he imagines the static that follows Alastor everywhere. Before him, the sound of an off-channel radio made him panic. In his youth, it comforted him, reminding him of when his mother would put the radio on to help him and Molly sleep, but then as an adult and in death, it only reminded him of the sound of the ECT machine humming to life before sending lightning through his temples.   
But that was before Alastor, and he once again has positive associations with the sound of static.  
As he looks in the mirror at his reflection, he sees himself as he is before it flashes to a memory of him in Valentino’s office, bent over the vanity there, and staring at himself as the pimp had his way. Angel watches himself grit his teeth as he turns and punches Valentino hard across the face, removing the moth from inside his body and knocking him back just far enough for Angel to pull his skirt back up and escape the room. The memory is gone and Angel is left grinning.  
 _“For you, I’ll risk it all…”_

Angel stands from his chair and hugs the jacket closer to his body. He’ll belong to Alastor fully, he won’t have to be afraid anymore. Not of Valentino at least. The Radio Demon, an Overlord more powerful than most, will have his soul and it will, undoubtedly, taint him further and cover him with a veil so thick the light of redemption will never reach him. But, Angel doesn’t mind that. He never hoped for it anyway, this hotel was just a free place to stay and an escape from Valentino. He’s more than okay with whatever corruption comes from having his soul in the hands of a demon like Alastor.  
 _“So kiss me, kiss me, infect me with your love and fill me with your poison.”_ He sings as he spins around his room. _“Take me, take me, I wanna be ya’ victim, I’m ready for abduction.”_  
He remembers how it feels to have Alastor pat his back, to ruffle his hair, to put an arm around him when he teases Angel, their hands clasped together to form a contract. Alastor has never put a hand on Angel in any kind of unfriendly way, and it’s wonderful. He’s never been afraid of the deer demon.  
 _“Boy, you’re an alien, ya’ touch so foreign, it’s…supernatural.”_

  
Alastor leans back in his chair as he listens, closing his eyes. He’ll protect Angel, he’ll support him in this endeavor. Alastor never had any kind of personal vendetta with Valentino as he did with Vox, the two simply never having any reason to interact, but now, saddled as he is with these new and unnecessary feelings for Angel Dust, a porn star and hooker of all things, can’t help but see everything the moth has done to the spider as a personal attack against something that now belongs to him.  
 _“I’ll make you my Aphrodite,”_ he starts, _“make you my one and only.”_  
He runs his thumb tenderly over the tuft of hair secured to the doll in his hand.  
 _“Mark my words, this love will make you levitate like a bird — a bird without a cage.”_

On his radio, Angel is still singing.  
 _“Kiss me, kiss me, infect me with your love and fill me with your poison—,”_  
And Alastor is responding, tuned out as he is so as not to alert the spider he’s listening.  
 _“So, you want to play with magic? Boy, you should know what you’re falling for. Darling, do you dare to do this? ‘Cause I’ll come at you like a dark horse…”_  
He can picture Angel now, curled up in his bed or perhaps twirling around his room wearing the red coat he’d yet to return that Alastor didn’t have the heart to ask for, as he sings.  
 _“You opened my eyes, and I’m ready to go — Lead me into the light!”_  
Alastor watches as the shadow on his wall forms beside him, and he waves his hand as it slowly morphs into a shadow form of the spider himself, all void but with glowing pink eyes. He stands and takes the shadow’s hand and pulls it into a dance around his office.  
 _“It’s in the palm of your hand now, dear, it’s a yes or a no. No maybe, so just be sure before you give it all up to me.”_  
Angel’s voice is still carrying on through the radio and Alastor’s ears swivel towards the sound, and he finds himself feeling the other demon's emotions already, strong as they are at the moment.  
 _“Kiss me, kiss me,”_ they sing. _“Your touch is so foreign — it’s supernatural, extraterrestrial.”_

_“Boy, you’re an alien—,”_

Angel.

_“Kiss me, kiss me—,”_

Alastor.

Alastor spins the shadow in his arms and bows before drawing up close, raising a clawed hand to hold it’s cheek and thumb just under the eye he knows to be discolored while Angel continues on.  
 _“It’s supernatural—,”_  
Alastor’s ears flatten and his smile is harder to keep up the more he thinks about everything they’ve done, what they’ve bonded themselves like this for. He doesn’t think he has the heart to call upon Angel when he’ll need him in the future. He leans up, getting on the tips of his toes, and presses a soft kiss against the void in front of him.  
 _“Kiss me, kiss me—,”_ he whispers against the shadow’s false mouth as he pulls away, and when he dismisses the thing back to the realm it came from, his smile finally drops.

_“There’s no going back.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Like my stuff? Follow me on Twitter @FukaiFox!
> 
> my RadioDust playlist on Spotify!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Fr4SB22PGfgwVvsxrjpNm


End file.
